Mistakenly Caring
by smileysmell
Summary: Sequel to ‘Simple Illness That Connect the Two of Us’. It is House turn to take care of Wilson. How would it turn out? Oneshot only. Please read and review...


**Disclaimer:** I never own House or Wilson…or the other characters in the show.

**Summary:** Sequel to 'Simple Illness That Connect the Two of Us'. It is House turn to take care of Wilson. How would it turn out???

**Author: **Thanks all of you for read and review my story. I hope this will satisfy your request Mikesh…

**Mistakenly Caring **

Oneshot

"You should at least clean this up first" his voice echoed. The moment James Wilson opened the door, his eyes locked at the miserable place that his friend had live in.

The apartment was a bit messy. There're playboy magazines all over the couch, a line of empty beers on the small table and unwashed clothes that were covering the floor.

"Sorry, too busy with the patients. No money to hire a maid", a snarky reply sounded from the kitchen. The man was holding a glass of plain water and a handful of pills in his palm. Gradually, he limped over to the Oncologist and gave a wild look at him to take the whole meds.

"This is…too much for a fever" Wilson protested.

"Not if you wanna get better soon" the 'doctor' reasoned.

"I'm afraid, I'll die if I take them all at once"

"Who say you have to? Two pills every 12 hours only. Gosh, are you trying to kill yourself here??"

Wilson sighed. House is always being House. Grinned. He took two out of the palm, and drank the whole water as the pills found his way into his stomach. Returned the glass to the owner, he cleared the couch and laid comfortably on it.

"Need anything else??" House cleared his throat.

"No, some piece maybe" he's already halfway asleep. He could hear the distant sounds of House hobbled into his bedroom before waking him up again.

"Here" the cripple handed him a soft pillow for his head rest. He took it lazily but fell back to sleep with the pillow on his chest.

House shook his head. Glaring at his tired, sleeping buddy, he lifted Wilson's head slowly, and placed the soft pillow underneath it. A smile was craved on his face. Satisfaction. Reassured with the level of comfort Wilson had, he's back to his job. He picked his a-week unwashed clothes with his cane and put them in the laundry. Detergent had been poured till the last drop and he'd already alarmed himself to buy the new one soon. He left the washing-machine on as he ambled to the hall again to clear the rest of the rubbish there.

An hour had passed, and he had finished on his last job with a little headache. He wasn't completely recovered from his fever yet but a little headache wasn't going to interrupt his duty. He paced over to Wilson to check on his progress before he heated the stove.

Wilson was disrupted by the coughing sound. He's waking up slowly and stared at House who had a series of coughing in the kitchen. Immediately, he forced himself to get up and made his swaying movements to the kitchen.

"House…" he waited for the reply.

"I'm fine, just some coughing…it will get away"

Wilson managed to smile at the answer, but he knew House would somehow hide his pain. He staggered closer to the Diagnostic and noted at the preheated stove.

"Are you making me soup??" he frowned his eyebrow inquisitively.

"Nah, I'm making your ass" House mocked. He tried to open the can but the can opener had fallen before his eyes. Wilson picked it up quickly.

"Let me do it. I have better hand than you" he offered.

"I doubt it" House sneered, giving the can to him.

Wilson opened the can smoothly in front of House. House stared at Wilson's hand as if there's something peculiar, magical that had helped him to open the can.

"Ok Jimbo, daddy can take it from here. Go get some rest before you head explodes!" he ordered Wilson, taking the can from Wilson.

Smirked. With a hazy headache, the young man just obliged to the order and made his way to the living room again. Sat on the couch, he switched the television on. From the weather channel to the soap opera, nothing that had caught his interest. He turned off the television. No point of watching. He heard small groans from the kitchen. He chuckled; he can imagined how House would tried to cook own his own. A moment later, House appeared in front of him.

"Done cooking mommy??" he scoffed, putting his 'boyish' tone out.

"I let the pro to do it" a short remark as House picked the phone beside the couch and dialing his favorite restaurant.

Wilson rolled his eyes at his friend. He already predicted that. Even House would try his best, he would finally give up. He's not suitable in playing this caretaker's role.

"Ok, thanks" House hung the phone and turned to his 'patient'.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because your ass is big as Cuddy's though"

Frowning, Wilson tried to hide his laughter. House handed him a thermometer.

"Your feverish look still need some touch up. Check if you're still virtually sick"

Wilson took and slipped it into his mouth and waited for it to beep.

"98.5" he said, as he read on the thermometer.

"Could be better"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you" Wilson sneezed. He then noted that House was gripping his thigh a little harder.

"Is your leg hurt??" Wilson began to worry over his pal.

"None of your business" House winked his eyes. He retrieved the thermometer back from Wilson's hand and shuffled to the bathroom. _Ting! _The bell rang. Wilson got up to his feet to answer it. It was the delivery boy though. After paying, Wilson brought the food to the dining room. There's no sign of House. Ignoring his discomfort body, he staggered to the bathroom to only find House's curling in pain.

"House" he yelled as he rushed to his side.

"I'm fine" House tried to sound normal.

"You're not fine" Wilson helped House to stand up and escorted him to the nearest chair. He slowly pulled the pant that was covering the tight and began to message it softly. House closed his eyes to enjoy the little _spa. _

"Much better?" Wilson asked.

"Yours are like women, soft and tender. Made a good mother while sucking at you-know-what-I-mean"

Wilson couldn't help but laughed at him.

"Your _chinese_ had arrived. Wanna grab some?" Wilson reminded him bout the food.

"You always know how to read my appetite"

With a smile, House leaned to Wilson's shoulder for support as he moved toward the dining room. He felt very odd though. _'Looks like the world had turned upside down, I'm the one who should take care of James Wilson but now it's the other way round' _House thought silently.


End file.
